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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23363656">Look The Part</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fyre/pseuds/Fyre'>Fyre</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Little Kindness [15]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett, Slow Show - mia_ugly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternative Perspective, M/M, Missing Scene</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:27:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,265</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23363656</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fyre/pseuds/Fyre</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tomorrow, they would see each other for the first time in weeks and he was dying for it. The anticipation hummed under his skin like a second pulse and to know they would see each other – even in a professional capacity – was enough to breathe fresh life into him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anthony J. Crowley/Avery Fell (Slow Show)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Little Kindness [15]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1628107</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>123</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Look The Part</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/mia_ugly/gifts">mia_ugly</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>New York was beautiful in October.</p><p>Avery had arrived two days before the planned photoshoot – some radio interviews and a couple of appearances on morning television to pad out his days – and took what little time he could to wander in Central Park and the Metropolitan Museum.</p><p>One evening, he simply sat on a park bench, listening to the hum of the city around him, slightly muffled by the golden-leafed trees. No one gave him a second look and he watched as a couple meandered by on the path, hand in hand.</p><p>Such a simple pleasure. It was silly to envy them, but sometimes… sometimes he wondered…</p><p>He withdrew his telephone from his pocket and took a photograph of the pond and the leaves and the towering skyscrapers beyond it. Hardly a masterpiece, but he sent it on to both Tracy – who insisted they always share their travel photos – and Crowley.</p><p>A few seconds later, his phone pinged in his hand and he turned it over.</p><p>[Tease]</p><p>Avery smiled crookedly.</p><p>Tomorrow, they would see each other for the first time in weeks and he was dying for it. The anticipation hummed under his skin like a second pulse and to know they would see each other – even in a professional capacity – was enough to breathe fresh life into him.</p><p>And he already knows where Crowley will be staying. They had… come to an arrangement beforehand. Worked out the logistics.</p><p>His gaze drifted again to the couple as they paused to take a picture together by the pond. Hand in hand. Not a care in the world. No arrangement. No logistics. No careful calculations for their name or reputation.</p><p>He sighed, getting to his feet.</p><p>It had to be what it had to be. One day at a time. He – they – would take what little they could get. What they could afford. What Avery knew to be safe.</p><p>Gabriel was waiting for him in the bar when he got back to the hotel, beaming and with a collection of webpages showing his most recent interviews.</p><p>“Not bad, not bad,” he said, slapping Avery hard on the back and almost knocking the phone flying from Avery’s hand. “They love your old fuddy-duddy librarian look over here. Quaint, they said. Can you believe that?”</p><p>Avery set the phone down and slid it back towards him. Interviews were all well and good, but he’d always felt rather uncomfortable going over them every damn time, as if being critiqued on his every performance.</p><p>“I’m glad you’re pleased,” he murmured.</p><p>“Pleased? You have these guys eating out of the palm of your hand <em>and</em> you’re getting a <em>Leibowitz</em>.” How was it possible his teeth were even whiter than before? “Now, we just need to get you some juicier film roles to finally get you onto the Oscar track.”</p><p>Avery smiled unsteadily. Of course Gabriel couldn’t give a compliment like a normal human being.</p><p>Still, the photo session <em>was</em> exciting.</p><p>The woman had a formidable reputation and it was a sign of high standing to both get photographed by her <em>and</em> have the picture appear in something with the fame of <em>Vanity Fair</em>. Sarah and Tracy had both shrieked down the phone when he’d told them. Even Crowley had gone above and beyond his usual number of exclamation marks about it.</p><p>“I’ve arranged my own car,” he said, before he could stop himself.</p><p>Gabriel blinked owlishly at him. “What was that?”</p><p>“To the photoshoot. I’ve arranged my own transport.” He wasn’t <em>really</em> a nasty person, but he had to admit the stunned, wounded look on Gabriel’s face felt oddly… satisfying. He smiled. “I’m sure you’ll be very busy, so you don’t need to worry about chaperoning me this time. I’ll get myself there and back. Don’t worry.”</p><p>“Yes, but I should–”</p><p>“Really, don’t worry about it,” Avery said, all wide-eyes and virtue. “You don’t need to spend your time hanging around. I know how much you hate that.” He smiled politely. “Time is money, isn’t that what you always say?” He gave Gabriel a careful, cautious pat on the arm. “I can take care of this for you. Lighten your burden.”</p><p>Gabriel stared at him as if he’d kicked a puppy into the sun, but – as usual – he recovered quickly. “I may swing by. See what kind of thing she has in mind.” The unnervingly white smile returned and he slapped Avery on the back again. “Got to keep eyes on my meal ticket, right?”</p><p>Avery smiled tightly and spent the next half hour thinking of everything he wanted to do with Crowley instead of listening to a word his manager was saying.</p><p>By the time he got back to his room, there was a message waiting on his phone. [Heading to the airport. See you tomorrow]</p><p>For a moment, the weight lifted from his shoulders and he smiled.</p><p>Tomorrow.</p><p>Only a few more hours.</p><p>The next morning, even the fact that Gabriel managed to wheedle his pick-up time out of the hotel staff couldn’t ruin his mood, not even when he slid into the front seat of the car, leaving Avery in the broad, empty back seat alone. Gabriel was as giddy as a schoolboy, dressed to the nines, as if he was the one lined up for a photoshoot.</p><p>Avery stared out of the car window, making quiet sounds of acknowledgement when Gabriel spoke back at him, trying to ignore how round and waxy his face looked in the glass. He didn’t need to think about that. Instead, he thought about warm red hair, laughing eyes and those slanting, smiling lips. That made it all right. They would be there and that would be <em>fine</em>.</p><p>Yes, they had to do a photoshoot, but sometimes, a price had to be paid.</p><p>He <em>hated</em> photoshoots at the best of times, so forced and stilted. Acting was one thing. Being photographed as himself was something entirely different, even if this particular photographer made Gabriel glow with excitement.</p><p>The shoot was taking place in a field, of all places. Not even a set, but an actual, sprawling field well outside of the city. There were make-up trailers and people doing checks on lights and – good Lord, was that a dry-ice machine?</p><p>“Very rural, eh?”</p><p>Avery spun, warmth blossoming in his chest. “Crowley!”</p><p>Crowley’s mouth tilted in that glorious nonchalant smile. “That’s my name, angel,” he said, arching an eyebrow over his glasses. “Don’t wear it out.”</p><p>A glance around confirmed they were alone, everyone else rushing around, busy and distracted and out of earshot. “Oh, I <em>intend</em> to as soon as we’re done here.”</p><p>The smile stuttered and Crowley’s adam’s apple bobbed wildly. “Ngk?”</p><p>Avery’s cheeks warmed and he looked back across the field as if he hadn’t said a word. “Do you know what they plan to dress us in yet?”</p><p>“Dress. Yeah.” Crowley cleared his throat. “S’modern stuff. Us being... us-ish.”</p><p>“Us-ish,” Avery murmured. “Very eloquent.”</p><p>Crowley stepped alongside him. “Bastard,” he said.</p><p>Avery pressed his lips together, fighting down the smile. He <em>couldn’t</em> let it out. Not here. Not just now, anyway. “Gabriel tagged along,” he murmured and saw the tension return to Crowley’s face. “I tried to shake him off, but he’ll be… hanging around.”</p><p>“Like a bad smell,” Crowley muttered. He shoved his glasses back up his nose. Barrier back in place. Professional. Distant. Two actors doing a photoshoot and nothing more. “Right. Well. To make-up, then, angel. Time to look the part.”</p><p>Avery watched him saunter away and nodded. “Look the part,” he agreed in a whisper. “Yes.”</p>
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